Final Goodbye (Alpine Peak #1)

Chapter 1

I had just finished a twelve-hour shift at the bar and was in desperate need of a drink to wind down. A bottle of Pinot Grigio was calling my name, and my roommate was busy with her boyfriend for the night, leaving me alone to my thoughts.

The bottle was halfway gone when my phone lit up with my mother’s name. Rolling my eyes, I mumbled under my breath,?“What could she possibly need from me so late?”?

I contemplated ignoring the call, too exhausted and desperate to relax. It had been a long day, and I was dying to crawl into my bed and sleep until noon tomorrow. These bar shifts were long and hard on my body. The hours were late, and by the time I was done winding down, I wasn’t asleep until the early hours of the morning.

The alcohol must have been getting to my head because I figured, What the hell, I’ll answer it and see what she needs this time. Pretending I was sober, I took a deep breath and answered the phone.

“Hey, Mom, it’s late. What’s going on?” I heard sobs from the other end of the phone and the hair on my arms immediately stood up. Her cries sobered me in an instant as I placed my wine glass on the nearest surface and straightened my spine.

“It’s your dad. He’s been in an accident. You need to come home,” she spoke through sobs.

I was in shock, with no clue what to say. So many thoughts ran through my head. My dad and I are so close; we just talked the other day. What did she mean he’d been in an accident?

“Mom, what do you mean? Is he hurt? What happened?” The questions spewed off my tongue in rapid fire.

He couldn’t be gone. But why did my mind instantly go to the worst place?

That was the only thought running through my head.

I had a feeling deep in my gut that she wouldn’t be reacting this way if he was only hurt and in the hospital. I shook the depressing thoughts away for a moment and hardened my exterior. I held my breath, awaiting her response.

“Paige, he’s dead.”?

That’s all she said. Those two words would haunt me. He’s dead .

She was hysterical, and I was left speechless. There was so much I wanted to say and ask, but when I opened my mouth, it was like my words were stuck in my throat.

“I’ll be on the first flight out.” That’s all I could muster up the courage to say. It almost felt like, if I didn’t have the answers, I could ignore the problem at hand until I was back home in Colorado. But in the back of my mind, I knew October eighth would be a day I’d never forget.

Immediately, I began to throw clothes in a bag, not even giving it a second thought whether they matched or not. I had no idea how long I’d be back home in Colorado; I just knew I had to get there. I needed to know what was going on. Something didn’t feel right about this.

This news seemed fake. Being away from my family and not receiving the information in real time like they were—it didn’t seem real. Not yet anyway.

The thought of my father being gone broke my fucking heart. Yet there were no tears to prove my heart was shattered into a million pieces at the moment.

I should be crying, right? Why are there no tears?

I grabbed fistfuls of my hair, pulling it in frustration as I screamed and tried to let out any sort of raw emotion.

Yesterday, my dad called me. He was checking in, and we talked about the usual stuff: how work was going, what I was up to, surface level topics.

Yesterday, I heard his voice, not knowing it would be the last time. Yesterday, I told him I loved him for the last time. Today… Today, he was gone.

I went to my dad for everything. He was the closest person to me. He was my best fucking friend. So why wasn’t I crying? I should have been sobbing, just like my mom was. What was wrong with me? I kept telling myself I was just in shock, but I think I knew deep down, I told myself I wasn’t allowed to show emotion. I had to be strong.?

Crying made me weak, and someone had to be strong in this family.?

That desperation for sleep I was chasing… Well, that never happened. I booked the earliest flight out of Phoenix. It had only been four hours since I heard the news, giving me enough time to pack everything I could into two large suitcases and get an Uber to the airport. Thankfully, it was early enough—or late, if you’re someone who works as a bartender—that the Uber driver wasn’t all that talkative. It took me longer than necessary to pack, mostly because I got held up on which black dress I should bring.?

Why was I held up on such a stupid thought?

It didn’t matter which dress I’d wear. My dad wouldn’t be there to see me in whatever dress I chose, anyway. He was dead . This wasn’t a wedding; it would be his funeral.

Well, that was morbid, Paige…

It was a ridiculous thought to have, and eventually, I shook myself out of it and packed everything black that I owned and said to hell with it .

My headphones were in and my eyes were closed for the two-hour flight, doing my best to shut out the world around me. I selected an old country playlist on my phone that my dad and I used to listen to constantly, trying to test my emotions. When My Little Girl by Tim McGraw came on and I still hadn’t shed a tear, I knew I was fucked in the head.?

Eventually, the emotions would run through me, but now wasn’t the time. Maybe the closer I was to home, to him, my feelings would spill over.

The worst part was, I felt like I would never get there. I was running on no sleep. And between my bar shift and traveling in the early hours, this day—which was really two days—felt like a continuous loop.

The plane landed in Denver, but I still had a daunting three-hour drive ahead of me into the mountains, to my hometown I left years ago. My road trip was quiet, only thoughts of the worst-case scenario running through my mind. My anxiety grew with every mile I got closer to the mountains.

I wasn’t sure if my nerves got worse or better when I saw the sign ahead that read, Welcome to Alpine Peak, Population 6,011 . I was back home for the first time in years, and it was all because my dad died.

Regret filled me when I wished I had come back sooner.

I ran away from this small town years ago. I wanted to live in the big city and leave the bad memories behind. Of course, I still saw my family, but I let them come to me. Phoenix was a great place to get away when it got too cold here in the mountains.?From the sounds of it, they didn’t seem to mind the excuse to get out of town.

The last time I saw my family was just over six months ago. They came to Arizona to see some spring training baseball games, take a trip to the Grand Canyon, and every other touristy thing. It dawned on me… that was the last time I saw my dad. We talked all the time through text and video calls, but the last time I hugged him, smelled him… That was months ago.

Lost in thought, I continued to drive toward my childhood home. Everything appeared the same once I turned onto High Street, the main strip through the town, but it definitely felt different being back.

I passed the coffee shop, pharmacy, some local restaurants, and the neighborhood bar, Peaks . Depending on how things went while I was here, I’d probably have to get a temporary job there. High Street wasn’t very big, maybe a mile long of shops, but it had everything you’d need.

It was fall in the mountains. Unlike back in Phoenix, the leaves here were changing color, and the weather was cooler. Yellow and red leaves floated through the air, dropping one by one to the ground, separating from the trees with each breeze.

My parent’s house was just down the street, and before I knew it, I arrived in the gravel driveway. These were the last few moments I would have alone. In order to prepare myself, I took a few deep breaths after turning off the engine.

The calm before the storm.?

Minutes had gone by when I finally got out of the car. Heading up to the front door, I didn’t know what I would be walking into, so I grabbed the spare key that had been under the doormat for as long as I could remember.

Yup, nothing had changed.?

Hesitation washed over me, but I turned the key to unlock the door anyway. Cracking the door open, I called out for my mom and brother. “Mom? Chase? Anyone home?”

Chase came walking down the stairs, looking taller than ever, and I couldn’t believe how much he had changed since I last saw him.

I know teenagers are always changing and growing into their own, but it wasn’t just that he was taller, he had grown wider; he looked like he was spending all of his extra time in the weight room. He was almost seventeen and ready to graduate high school.

My parents had him when I was a teenager; you could say they weren’t expecting it. By the time I was out of the house, Chase was still a young boy. We never had the opportunity to grow super close, but I always did my best to stay in contact and ask him how school was going.

Our relationship pretty much consisted of small talk.

“Paige, hey. Mom is lying down; she didn’t get much sleep last night.” He looked defeated coming down the stairs and even more overcome when he hugged me and took a deep breath. That breath sounded like he’d been holding it for quite some time now. His hug was tight, and I could tell he was silently crying by the way he shook in my arms. I wanted to tell him it was going to be okay. I wanted to believe that this was just a sick dream, but I still had very little to go on. All I knew was that our father was dead, and I needed to be strong for this family. For Chase, who was sobbing in my arms.

I was clearly still in shock. I felt pathetic. Even my little brother breaking down and crying couldn’t make me shed a tear. I didn’t quite know what to say, so I just stood there silently and hugged my brother like I wished I had hugged my father the last time I saw him.?

I released his body from my arms and looked deep into his saddened eyes. He was the spitting image of our dad, with his deep brown eyes, dark hair, and a strong jawline. With a furrowed brow, I spoke softly. “Let’s have a seat in the kitchen. I’ll make you some breakfast, and we can talk about it?” He silently nodded as we made our way to the kitchen.

I had so many questions, but I wondered if Chase was the right person to ask. Waking my mom wasn’t an option. Sleep was best for her right now. I was exhausted, too, but I couldn’t even imagine how she must have been feeling.

He took a seat at the bar top while I got familiar with the kitchen again. When I opened the fridge, it looked like my mom hadn’t been to the grocery store in a while. I made a mental note to stock the fridge and freezer with some food that wouldn’t go bad right away. There were some bagels and cream cheese, and it would have to be enough for now.?

Setting a bagel in front of Chase, I finally got the courage to ask, “So… Mom called last night, but she didn’t have much to say. Honestly, the conversation was a blur. She told me dad was gone, that there had been an accident and to come home…” Taking a deep breath, I finished, “What happened, Chase? Why am I home? What happened?” I exclaimed, my knuckles turning white from the tightening grip I had on the countertop.

He looked up at me, teary-eyed. “They said it was a hit and run. The police showed up last night and said, by the time they arrived at the scene, he was gone, and it was clear it was a hit and run.”

I felt the color drain from my face, and tears threatened to escape from my eyes. I’d been through therapy before; I knew it was acceptable to show emotion, especially in a moment like this, but it was almost like my body wasn’t allowing it.

Suddenly, I was Cameron Diaz in The Holiday . The worst thing in my life could happen and I couldn’t cry. There was a wall built up so high that I couldn’t feel the most devastating emotions.

The tears weren’t falling, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t allowed to be angry at the thought of someone leaving my father for dead on the side of the road.

A fucking hit and run?

Who could do such a thing? Who in this world—in this town—had such low morals that they would hit my father’s car hard enough that he died… and just leave him there to bleed out?

I wanted to fucking scream. I had the urge to break everything in my line of sight. But I looked back at Chase, who was grieving the loss of our father and trying to wrap his head around a tragedy like this at such a young age. The sadness in his eyes brought me back to reality. I couldn’t react with the anger that I wanted to, not in front of him.

I needed to be strong for him.

I was always the strong one. The oldest child. The independent one who didn’t have a single fear of leaving this place behind and fending for myself. I’d spent my adult life not being loved in the ways I wanted to because, as my mom always said, I didn’t need her. According to her, I was so self-sufficient that I was okay doing life on my own. She spent so many years parenting Chase that she forgot about being my parent the moment I turned eighteen.

I needed my mom.

I needed my dad.

But I needed to be strong more. Mom was here, and I’d have a conversation with her eventually. I’d unload all of my feelings, but for now, I needed to be here for Chase and set aside my feelings just one more time.

After the long night I had, after receiving that life-changing phone call, I was able to fill in some blanks. The only problem now was… I had more questions than answers.